


don't go any higher (fuck that)

by nygmaniacs



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Is that a thing, Lasting aftereffects, M/M, Newt isn't the same alright, Newton's POV, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Slow recovery, They hurt Newt ok, emotional torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 02:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15963269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nygmaniacs/pseuds/nygmaniacs
Summary: "I want to kill you," he said casually, conversationally."Is that so?" Hermann asked.





	don't go any higher (fuck that)

**Author's Note:**

> title from Anything by Hedley which is basically Newt's song
> 
> English is not my first language, forgive me for any mistakes

I.

 

As the lights in his cell switched on, his head snapped up in attention. His face was blank, an emotionless and cold stare which unsettled most people who visited him. After that first visit of the Pentecost kid, the only people visiting him were nurses who checked on his vitals and made him eat. They never dared looking at him. 

 

He couldn’t say that this visit didn't surprise him. It was way too early for one of the nurses to show up with another round of water and bread but as he stared at the figure stepping into his line of view, he couldn’t help but snort. 

 

A lazy smile spread out on his face. Hermann was so predictable. 

 

"Hermann!" He exclaimed in fake enthusiasm, coming too close to how he used to sound. He could see the older man flinch, as he was, too, reminded of Newton's old behaviour and the fact that things had changed. Drastically changed. 

 

Hermann didn't even try to mask his unease, sorrow and pain. There was no point in pretending when they both knew very well that Hermann couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore. 

 

The noise inside Newton's head grew louder, more frantic. They didn't like Hermann, from the very first moment that the whispering started, they started pushing him away from Hermann. Maybe it was because they had both drifted with the Kaiju, maybe it was something they had seen in the scientist's head. Newton didn't know and frankly, Newton didn't care. The only thing he cared about was that godawful noise they made whenever Hermann was close. 

 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, just a little moment, so Hermann wouldn't notice. He clenched his fists. 

 

"Newton," the other man said evenly, carefully schooling his voice. He was snapped out of his momentary haze and inhaled deeply, staring back at the man sitting in front of him. 

 

He looked pathetic, his skin even more pale than usual, his usual neat clothing a mess. Hair a mess. Everything a mess. The man in front of him was nothing more than a mess. 

 

His fists clenched tighter. The pressure behind his eyes worsened. They were clawing their way up his throat. 

 

"How's the neck?" They sneered. 

 

A sharp intake of breath. 

 

Newton could see the fading bruises. They looked grotesque against the almost blinding paleness of Hermann's throat. 

 

The man abruptly stood, Newton squinting up at him, the noise growing louder and louder. Pounding, pushing. 

 

"It's okay, Newton," Hermann said and Newton stilled. He stared up at Hermann and there was a sad smile on his face. "It's okay."

 

He turned around and the doors shut behind him, the lights switching off. 

 

He screamed, pushing against the cuffs that held him in place. Thrashing and yelling as the pressure grew. There was blood dripping out of his nose. 

 

He craved for Hermann's neck under his hands. 

 

 

II. 

 

"Who am I talking to?" 

 

Cold. Calculating. 

 

"Newton."

 

A raised eyebrow. Surprise. 

 

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

 

"I don't give a shit, Hermann."

 

A deep sigh. The shutting of a notebook. 

 

"It's okay, Newton."

 

Those words again. Always those words. 

 

He sneered. His headache got worse. Blood dripping. Hermann stood up and left.

 

 

III. 

 

"I want to kill you," he said casually, conversationally.

 

Hermann peered over his glasses and leaned back in his chair. "Is that so?" He asked. There was no fear in his voice. Something flashed in his eyes. 

 

Newton nodded, the noise was making his head spin. "Sometimes... whenever you sit in front of me and tell me stupid fucking stories of things in the past, I think of that moment back at Shao Industries. My hands around your neck," he closed his eyes. There was a peaceful smile on his face. It didn’t reflect the pain he endured at the very moment. No one knew about the pain. 

 

"And I think... what if I had done it? What if I'd succeeded? Hermann, you have no idea how good it felt to have you under me. Watch you struggle. Watch the light fade. And your stupid thumb still stroking my hand. It was a good feeling. I think about that a lot. I want to do it again." 

 

Hermann stared at him for a moment, silent. He nodded, then, scribbling something down on his notepad. Newton's face twisted. 

 

"You know that once we're- I am out of here, you will be a dead man, right? Time's starting to run out." The pounding inside his head got worse. They were clawing at his throat again, blood dripping out of his nose. 

 

Hermann sniffed, shrugged, stood up. 

 

"It's okay, Newton." 

 

He let out an ear shattering scream, seizing against his restraints. 

 

Hermann walked out without another word. 

 

VI.

 

This... was different. Hermann's visits were routine by now. Every second day at 10am sharp, the doors would slide open and the lights switch on. 

 

Hermann would come in, recalling another memory, desperately hoping something would change. Or maybe he had given up hope and this was his way to make peace with not ever getting Newton back. 

 

Newton didn't know. Hermann was predictable but ever since the first time he had stepped a foot in his cell, he was unsure of his motives. At first, he thought he would try to get the old Newton back. Talk to him until something would snap inside his head and he'd be his old self again. But as of now, Newton was 95% sure that Hermann knew the old Newton was gone. Precursors or not, Newton had changed and getting rid of the noise inside his head wouldn't change that. 

 

This time, though, Hermann didn't come in with another memory, another story to tell. This time, he simply sat down in his chair and for once, he didn’t say anything. He just stared. And Newton stared back. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was, but something about this whole situation made the things inside his head restless. They were screeching, pounding and pressing forward and forward and Newton closed his eyes. A river of blood streaming out of his nose as Hermann just stared and the noise inside his head grew and the things inside his head pushed and Newton couldn't fucking take it. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

 

His voice was low, deadly, cold as he ordered Hermann to leave. His head hurt, it hurt so fucking much but Hermann just stared for a little while longer. 

 

"I said leave!" He yelled, slamming his head back against the chair, over and over again, trying to stop the pain. 

 

"Very well," Hermann nodded and stood up. He turned to leave and Newton slammed his head a final time against the chair. He was one foot through the door when he turned around again, opening his mouth. 

 

"You know... it's okay, Newton."

 

Newton let out a hysterical laugh as the doors slid shut and he was plunged into darkness. 

 

 

V. 

 

He was exhausted. 

 

His mind was a battlefield. 

 

"Are you with me, Newton?" 

 

Newton closed his eyes. The noise was unbearable today. 

 

"Newton's not here today," he heard himself say. 

 

"Is that the case?" Hermann asked, raising an eyebrow. Skeptical. He was skeptical. 

 

"In fact, Newton hasn't been here for quite some time now. We're running the show now." His face twisted into a large smile. Newton was tired, he was so tired. 

 

The skeptical look on Hermann's face stayed. Suddenly, he jolted up, sitting up a little straighter, staring at Hermann with wide eyes. 

 

His hand was on Newton's thigh, he squeezed it lightly. It was comforting. Newton wanted to twist his neck. Newton wanted to hold him close. 

 

It was the first time in three months of constant visits that Hermann dared to touch him. 

 

The pain inside his skull got worse. 

 

"It's okay, Newton," he whispered and there was something soft in his voice. Something that made Newton ache. Something that made him want to sob. 

 

He stared. 

 

Herman stood up and left. 

 

The pain inside his skull made him pass out, at last. His thigh burned. 

 

 

VI.

 

"You're wasting your time." Even they sounded tired. 

 

Not Hermann, never Hermann. 

 

"Am I?" 

 

Still as skeptical as always. Newton wondered how he did it. 

 

"How do you do it?" The words were out of his mouth before he could shove them back in. He sounded defeated. He must have been a pathetic sight. 

 

"Excuse me?" Hermann asked, leaning back in his chair. His finger tapped against his thigh. That used to be Newton's thing; the constant restlessness. 

 

"How do you come in here every other day and don't grow tired of it?" 

 

Hermann stared at him, incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe Newton was asking him a question like that. He let out a short laugh. Newton blinked. 

 

"I thought it was obvious, Newton. What do you call me again? Predictable, wasn’t it?" 

 

He blinked again. 

 

"I'll let you figure it out yourself." There was a small smile on his face, barely visible, a glint in his eye. He felt warm. Newton wanted to strangle him. 

 

And as if he had heard Newton's thoughts, he sighed and stood up. The glint was still there. "It's okay, Newton." It was quiet. It was safe. He wanted to tear his skin off his bones. 

 

 

VII. 

 

"It's because I care about you. I love you." 

 

Newton was startled out of his daydream. It was something about the voices urging him on. 'Finish it.' The feel of blood on his hands. The feeling of being lost forever. 

 

"Hmm?" He asked, not fully understanding. 

 

Hermann smiled and shook his head. He left without a word. Something was missing. For the first time in ten years and eight months, Newton cried. 

 

The noise inside his head was quieter these days. 

 

 

VIII.

 

"What are you doing to me?" Always talking without thinking. 

 

There was surprise on Hermann's face. He didn’t say anything. 

 

Newton looked down. His fists clenched weakly. He was so tired. 

 

"They're not- they're not loud," he added. A disbelieving whisper. As if he only just realised what was happening. 

 

Hermann smiled. The first truly happy smile in almost a year. 

 

"It's okay, Newton," he replied. A hand wrapped around his own. Hermann's lips pressed against his forehead. The dam broke, Newton couldn't hold in his tears. 

 

 

IX.

 

His head was quiet.

 

"Sometimes, I still want to kill you," Newt confessed, quietly. These days, everything was a lot quieter. The hand carding through his hair stilled for a short moment. 

 

"It's okay, Newton."


End file.
